The Hero Wears a Thousand Faces.

How far will you go?
How deep is your love?
Your body's bruised and on fire
Cant stop the world
Cant stop desire

-Gavin Rossdale

I'm supposed to be writing a vivid tale full of imagery and reflection about my recent road trip, but as ever, things have come up to put a bump in my literary road.

I read somewhere that only through conflict do we find resolution. That said, it is becoming apparent that I am about to reach resolution with about 90% of my world over the next short span of time. It sounds exaggerated, but it feels true to say it.

The hero may wear a thousand faces, but mine is the one that I have to look at in the mirror.

And I haven't, not for a while.

We're told that on the path of a hero, we reach a point that the decision is made to pick up one's sword and fight. The underlying difficulty with that is that despite rumours and literary allegory to the contrary, the mere act of holding one's sword does not in fact restore strength to old muscles. There is more to it. There must be preparation before execution, else the decision and the fight are both in vain.

This has been my error in days past.

Today I spent some time reacquainting myself with...myself. I have long believed that part of my problems have stemmed from a lack of focus or self discipline, but today I discovered why.

On my trip, I learned from a Spidey comic that Hope has three daughters: Anger at the state things have fallen to, Courage to change them, and Truth.

So what's the truth?

The truth is that I've been true to everything and everybody except one: me. This has led me to unending trouble that primarily starts when I begin to feel resentment towards the people that seem to come before me, even though I put them there. I made the decision, and then I propogated the problem by training them to grow accustomed to this way of things. When the time comes to put me forward there is often a feeling of betrayal on their part, because I am suddenly appearing to be exceptionally selfish. It's a vicious cycle that I continue along because I'm so disdainful of conflict that I allow it to go on, and on, and on simply because I don't want to fight. So I give in. And I grow more resentful. And I continue to do shit I don't want to all in the name of keeping the peace, and not hurting anyone.

Other than myself that is.


So I took that long look today. I took stock. I started with my physical body, getting to know it's status, it's strengths, it's weaknesses. I made a checklist of damage wrought over the years that needs repair. I'm still flexible, and my muscles are in that state of disuse that will quickly repair once I begin using them again. I could use a meal or two extra a week, but it needs to be leaner, high protien food. And yes, I need to quit smoking and drinking regularly.

Mentally I'm sound, likely too sound. I did a week's worth of the daily newspaper's "Cryptoquotes" in a half hour.


Then there's that soul. Or heart. Or anima, or whatever you want to label it. How's that?

It's glowing quietly, that's how it's doing. It's glowing because of a phone call at the dramatically appropriate moment to yank me out of the bar. It's glowing because I understand something now I didn't previously:

That without someone special, there are no things worth fighting for. Only ones worth dying for. And that's not really the same thing now, is it?

So I took the advice. I stopped drinking, and did nothing until today.

So what'd I do today?

The one thing I've never done. I quit reacting. I quit accepting. I looked around....

and Decided.